


dear thunderbird (carry me home)

by fluffysaik



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, I'm Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 21:12:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffysaik/pseuds/fluffysaik
Summary: And he stayed by her side as her hand grew cold, he didn’t let go of her, even as the cold washed over him in forceful waves and threatened to take his breath away. He stroked her grey hair and stayed, because he orbited around her. She was his lifeline, his anchor. His eye in the storm.She was home.He couldn’t leave her behind, even if he tried.





	dear thunderbird (carry me home)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CallmeLea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallmeLea/gifts).



> henlo this is basically just one giant character death pls beware
> 
> also, this is for my dear best friend. thank you for everything, i hope this is to your liking.

He’d always thought that she’d live longer than he would.

She was the strong, invincible auror and he was the one who always put himself in harm’s way for a hurt dragon, trafficked animals who were terrified of him and didn’t know any better than to attack him or for the people that he loved more than anything else.

She knew how to fight back, she calculated every risk she took. Of course, she would sometimes come back home, covered in bruises and dried tears staining her cheeks, asking  him to hold her with a broken voice. But she was strong, stronger than anyone he had ever met. She was fierce, but so beautiful. She had been by his side throughout the years he had spent traveling across more countries than he could count. She had always been beside him, her presence reassuring and comforting.

She had been there when his brother got married to the girl he had loved so long ago, holding his hand and dancing with him, the warmth that radiated from her body soothing him.

Of course, she was there every time he got hurt once again, exasperatedly lecturing him on the danger he put himself in over and over again, on how he worried her, while cleaning his wounds and ignoring his muttered apologies, crawling into his bed hours later and nuzzling her nose into his neck when he wrapped his arms around her.

She was there when his mother had died after battling the same illness both of her parents had lost their lives to, not using words like everyone else did to tell him oh how sorry they were and what a wonderful person his mother had been, but not leaving his side unless he asked her to. Letting him cry, holding his hand and being the comforting presence he never wanted to give up ever again.

She was there when their beloved Pickett’s little body slowly turned brown, and his sassy demeanor faded away as the bright green of his body did. She mourned with him as they dug him a grave, making sure that eventually, they would be okay.

She was always there to show him that no matter what others had told him throughout his life, he could be loved. He was loved. Even when he was sure that nobody cared, she was there to convince him otherwise.

Her soft embrace, her dark salamander eyes that pulled him towards her and her voice, stern but also soft as falling snow. He orbited around her, and she let him. She’d always be there, and they both knew it and were perfectly content with it.

She was there in the middle of the night when he felt more alone than ever, making him feel like he was in the eye of a storm, holding her like she was his lifeline. And maybe, he thought, she was. She wasn’t merely his lover, she was his best friend, his companion.

Since the day he had turned around on the docks of New York to ask her breathlessly if she wanted him to deliver a copy of his book to her in person, so many things had changed. But she had been the only constant in his life from then on. His fame came and went with the years, more and more copies and editions of his book were printed, and her first edition book still laid on her nightstand years after she had gotten it. They attended countless book signings together, because he couldn’t stand being amongst crowds, and she knew. She knew that he couldn’t bear to do it alone, so she took to accompanying him, sending him reassuring gazes and soft smiles. People came and went, he cared for creatures and set them free again with his Tina by his side.

He knew that she’d never leave him, but when he on a beautiful spring day got down on one knee, the trees that towered over them painting intricate patterns of shadows onto the grass and presented her with a simple, golden ring that fit perfectly onto her ring finger, he wanted to show her that words could never explain just how much he wanted to stay by her side, for as long as she’d let him. And when she fell down to her knees and embraced him, tears dripping onto his neck, muttering a seemingly endless litany of _I_ _love you so much, yes, of course, Newt_ , he realized just how much they needed each other.

Their marriage had been a small affair, both of them only having invited their closest friends and family. They meant everything to each other, and their marriage had been a way to show everyone just how much.

Their first child was born, and Newt couldn’t remember a day in his life when he had been happier. Holding a little bundle of joy, tears brimming in his eyes, Tina looking up at them adoringly, exhausted but so ridiculously happy.

Their life had rushed past them, their children growing up and an eternity and no time at all seemed to have passed when they sat next to each other on the porch, Tina’s head laid on his shoulder, her gray hair tickling his neck, her hand in his and their grandchildren running across the lawn, playing tag with the Nifflers.

When he was younger, he had often asked himself if his love for her would ever fade. He had heard many things about marriage destroying relationships, of feelings getting lost along the way or weakening with time.

But as he laid beside her, his eyes closed because the blinding white color of the hospital felt like it would tear him apart, tears slipping out from under his tightly shut eyelids, he realized that it never did. The sound of the drizzle dripping onto the window was the only thing he could hear as his hand was clasped around her own, covered in countless scars he had obtained throughout his long life, shaking and overwhelmed with age and grief. Her delicate fingers weakly grasped his hand, making him open his eyes, and she peeked up at him through her eyelashes, her beautiful, dark eyes glassy and unfocused as she smiled up at him wryly the way she had always done when she wanted to convince him that she was well when she had gotten injured during a raid, like they were still thirty and clueless about what they were doing.

A quiet sob escaped him, because how was he supposed to _be_ without her? He barely remembered what life was like without her. Her laughter, her weird habits he had grown to love over the years, her beautiful, deep, eyes that looked just like fire in water, in dark water, and he was drowning in them, always had been.

Memories of their life together rushed through him like a soft summer breeze, making him shiver with sadness and pain, but also so much gratitude. He’d never been able to put into words just how thankful he was for her. For her laughter, for her tears, for each and every moment she’d shared with him, for everything she was and for every part of herself she’d given to him.

She lifted the hand he hadn’t grasped in his own, trembling, and slowly, gently as ever, stroked his cheek, like he had done so many years ago on the docks of New York, quietly promising that they'd see each other again. The tears spilled onto his cheeks and grazed her hand, but she didn’t lower it. His vision grew blurry as he tried to blink away the tears, looking down at his wife, his best friend, his partner in an overwhelming sense of sadness and awe. But she looked at peace. Her eyelids seemed heavy, her breath unsteady, but her smile didn’t waver. Her hand fell onto her own stomach as her energy left her, and her eyes slowly closed.

A shaky sob. A silent whisper in a broken and raspy voice, telling him that _I love you, Newt. Thank you._

And he stayed by her side as her hand grew cold, he didn’t let go of her, even as the cold washed over him in forceful waves and threatened to take his breath away. He stroked her grey hair and stayed, because he orbited around her. She was his lifeline, his anchor. His eye in the storm.

She was home.

He couldn’t leave her behind, even if he tried.

He hadn’t known life without her, and often turned around to call for her whenever he found a new flower blossoming in their garden or found himself walking down to the living room in the morning, expecting to see her sitting on their couch, reading a book with the reading glasses so far down her nose that he often wondered how they didn’t fall off. They’d prepare breakfast together, they’d laugh at the simplest things or just enjoy the other’s presence.

His whole life had been _her,_ and she had left.

And wherever she went, he eventually followed. Months of her not being with him later, he had gone to sleep one night, only to wake up in the early morning hours to a light so blinding that it hurt his still sensible eyes. When he was finally able to open them, he froze at the sight that greeted him. His breath caught in his throat as he saw a stunningly beautiful thunderbird that strongly resembled his own patronus floating over his old, fragile body, its wings flapping slowly, and finally understood the peace that he had seen on his Tina’s face when she had left. He understood that he was going to see her again. So he reached his hand up towards the beautiful creature above him and it softly landed on his quivering hand. He smiled as he felt fatigue rush over him, his hand falling back onto the bed, closing his eyes, taking his last breath and letting the thunderbird carry his soul far, far away.

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to ask if i cried, then the answer is that yes, i did.
> 
> also, this isn't inspired by it, but [this song](https://youtu.be/2IFF9yu5i3k) fits this story pretty well.
> 
> lastly, come scream at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fluffysaik?s=09), if that's your thing. x


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